And the room was lit with a brightness that blurred his sight with the sudden transition from darkness. He saw her standing by the gas-bracket, with a look of concern on her face.
"Humphrey!" she cried, "is anything the matter with you?"
He was standing in a direct line with the oval mirror on the wall, and he caught the glimpse of a white face, with straining eyes and blanched lips, that he scarcely recognized as his own. She came to his side, tenderly solicitous.
He could bear it no longer. The words came from him in faltering sentences.
"Elizabeth," he cried. "Don't you know ... I love you, I love you."
Her face flushed with perfect beauty.
"Oh—Humphrey ..." she said.
And by the intimation of her voice, half-reproachful, and yet charged with infinite pity and love, he knew that, if he were bold enough, he could take her and hold her for evermore.
"I love you.... I love you ..." he said, drawing her unresistingly towards him. And there was nothing in life comparable to the exquisite happiness of that miraculous moment when her lips met his.